


Thomas and Scamander

by Armando_Snippet



Series: Thomas and Scamander [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Cell Phones, Crime Fighting, Gen, Harm to Animals, Horklumps - Freeform, Inspired by Sherlock (TV), Magizoology, Ministry of Magic, Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, Muggle/Wizard Relations, Owls, Screenplay/Script Format, Wizard Cops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 05:06:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8088457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Armando_Snippet/pseuds/Armando_Snippet
Summary: Dean Thomas and Rolf Scamander are flatmates in the Leaky Cauldron. They solve crimes.Magizoologist Rolf Scamander is down on his luck. He's exhausted his youth and his finances traveling the world to study magical beasts. Now he’s finally returned to London and is desperate to serve in the Ministry’s Department of Magical Creatures, like his legendary grandfather. The best he can get is a junior-position in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office. He reports directly to young war-hero Dean Thomas.Dean, having been raised a Muggle, is unusually well suited for chasing down enchanted kitchen appliances. Unfortunately his talent at balancing the magical and Muggle worlds does not extend to his personal life, where he keeps exposing his Muggle girlfriend Amanda to magical artefacts with disastrous consequences.Dean resents being partnered with Rolf, who doesn’t know a golf club from a car battery. Rolf is convinced his unique expertise would be put to better use in literally any other department.Nothing could be farther from the truth.





	

THOMAS AND SCAMANDER  
Episode One:  
“Horklumps and Heathens”

Based on the characters and Wizarding World  
of J. K. Rowling

  


EXT. LONDON (c.2003). DAY

The skyline at dawn. Somewhere an owl screeches.

  


EXT. AMANDA’S FLAT. DAY

Shoreditch. The sun’s just risen. An empty side street, a curtain-less window.

Standing in it is DEAN THOMAS – twenty-four, tall, thin, black, boyishly handsome, holding a FLIP PHONE. We’ve caught him in a moment of quiet vulnerability. He stares at the phone, shirtless, full of fear.

  


INT. AMANDA’S FLAT. DAY

Behind DEAN is the mattress where AMANDA sleeps. The flat is small, littered with laundry, hers and his. Pinned to the wall is a pencil drawing of AMANDA.

AMANDA murmurs. She’s also black and in her mid twenties, but in no way vulnerable.

DEAN eyes her.

AMANDA

Mmmm. Dean.

DEAN

Shh. Don’t get up.

She stretches. DEAN hides the phone.

DEAN

I can’t stay. I’m sorry.

AMANDA

Whatchu mean?

He struggles to keep the phone behind his back. Somehow the phone fights back.

DEAN

Work needs me. Early delivery. Huge, massive twit of a client.

AMANDA

What’re you holding?

DEAN traps the phone against the wall. It squeezes around his fingers, like it’s trying to bite them off.

DEAN

(In pain)

My phone! Don’t get up!

AMANDA

That’s not your phone.

DEAN

What?

AMANDA

That’s not... The helluv you got?

She reaches, but DEAN keeps twisting away, trying to pull the phone off his fingers.

AMANDA

(Playfully)

Have you got a second phone? Are you creeping out on me? Dean? Dean, stop it or I’ll think you really are!

She embraces him and laughs. DEAN smiles, but he isn’t enjoying this.

AMANDA

Dean Thomas – London lothario. Who’d of thought? Give it!

DEAN holds the phone high. It squeezes around his fist. The cheap plastic cracks.

DEAN’S fingers are freed. He shuts the phone, looks it over. Cautiously he hands it to AMANDA.

The screen is blank. The frame now has a tiny crack. 

Owl eyes light up the screen. The phone screeches. It rises from AMANDA’S hand and pecks at her face, clapping open and shut like an angry bird.

AMANDA yells and ducks for cover. The PHONE flutters after her, cawing, unrelenting.

DEAN dives for his rucksack and fishes out his wand. He aims at the phone.

DEAN

Immobulus!

Blue light shoots from his wand and erupts around the phone. The screeching stops. The phone hangs, frozen in air, then falls to the floor and vibrates.

AMANDA looks from DEAN to the phone to the wand in his hand. She screams again, this time completely hysterical.

DEAN sighs.

  


INT. BOIKO’S BOARDING HOUSE. DAY

MR BOIKO – squat, moustachioed, crusty – also yells hysterically. He marches down the corridor, red with fury, clutching a shrivelled, dead vegetable.

BOIKO’S Boarding House is dim and decorated with an excess of garden gnomes. It hasn’t been renovated since the thirties. The doors are spaced much too close together.

BOIKO

Rolf! Rolf! Where in Merlin’s beard are you hiding ‘em?

  


INT. BOIKO’S BOARDING HOUSE – ROLF’S ROOM. DAY

Full of books and gardening tools. Jazzy, upbeat CELISTINA WARBECK plays on an old magical wireless.

ROLF’S hands, in gardening gloves, cultivate HORKLUMPS over a crate of soil.

Horklumps resemble pink fleshy mushrooms with black bristles. When ROLF’S hand gets too close, a Horklump puffs out its bristles into spikes. ROLF recoils.

Meanwhile he absentmindedly sings along with the radio.

ROLF (O.S.)

 _I’ve got a cauldron full of hot, strong love and it’s bubbling for you. Say Incendio, but that spell’s not hot as my special witch’s brew._

INTERCUT:

BOIKO brandishes his dead vegetable, scared tenants jump out of the way.

BOIKO

Don’t make me come down there!

ROLF feeds his Horklumps earthworms, stirs milk in his tea.

ROLF (O.S.)

 _Got a flavour that beats anything you'll find in the Muggle world. Mix a pinch of spice with a dash of charm..._

BOIKO

You’ve hell to pay, boy! I know you can hear me!

ROLF

_Oh, come and stir my cauldron and if you do it right, I'll boil you up some hot, strong love to keep you warm..._

At last he hears BOIKO (muffled, O.S.) and we see ROLF SCAMANDER’s face. Early thirties, Anglo-Indian decent. There’s something decidedly bird-like about him. Jumpy, perceptive, his posture all angles. 

He’s wearing fuzzy slippers and a plush blue dressing gown. He pulls off the gardening gloves.

ROLF

Murtlap!

ROLF closes the Horklump crate and hauls it out the room.

  


INT. BOIKO’S BOARDING HOUSE. DAY

ROLF shuts his door quietly. BOIKO’s O.S. yells draw closer. ROLF dashes to the end of the corridor, where a stairwell leads to a door. He draws his wand.

ROLF

Colloportus.

The door swings shut and locks.

ROLF runs to his neighbour’s door. He knocks. There’s a bang down the hall.

BOIKO (O.S.)

 _Alohamora!_ Aloha... Are you having a laugh at me, boy?

MRS SPUDMORE answers ROLF’s knock. She’s an elderly woman wearing a nightgown and rollers, but also full makeup and fine jewellery. Her room is ornate, dusty, and faded.

MRS SPUDMORE

Rolf! What a pleasant surprise. I was just thinking of you, lad...

ROLF

Mrs Spudmore, would you do me the honour of holding this parcel while Mr Boiko visits my room? It would mean the world to me and I know my parents would be ever so thankful. 

MRS SPUDMORE stares past ROLF with a look of terror. BOIKO’S shouts continue O.S.

MRS SPUDMORE

Oh. I don’t think... I have a prior engagement – the theatre – that I must prepare for. I couldn’t possibly.

ROLF

Please, Mrs Spudmore?

MRS SPUDMORE

I’m sorry, lad.

She shuts the door. ROLF waits a good five seconds before knocking again. MRS SPUDMORE answers.

MRS SPUDMORE

Oh, Rolf! What a pleasant surprise. You know, I was just thinking of you...

ROLF

(With a huge smile)

Mrs Spudmore! I’ve a lovely Battenberg for you here, gift from my parents.

He hands over the crate.

MRS SPUDMORE

Oh, gracious!

She goes to open it, but ROLF stops her.

ROLF

Now, now, Mrs Spudmore. Mustn’t spoil your appetite. Save that for this evening, won’t you? 

MRS SPUDMORE

Oh. Quite right! I do love marzipan, don’t I? Your mother always remembers. You will thank your parents for me?

ROLF

I am owling them as we speak. 

MRS SPUDMORE

I think I’ll save some for a treat when I return from the theatre. Did you know, I’m attending the premiere this evening, lad? 

ROLF

Of course you are, Mrs Spudmore. Good-bye now. Buh bye.

O.S. a door crashes open. ROLF dashes away.

  


INT. BOIKO’S BOARDING HOUSE – ROLF’S ROOM. DAY

BOIKO smashes into the room. The wireless plays something prim and classical.

ROLF is posed in his chair, feet on the desk, book in one hand, cuppa in the other. Evidence of the missing Horklump crate is everywhere: soil, spray bottles, a jar of worms.

ROLF

Ah good morning Mr Boiko! Was that you making all that racket?

BOIKO

Don’t mock me, boy. Where’re you hiding ‘em? 

ROLF

Mock you? Certainly I should never find the impertinence in all my years.

BOIKO

None of your smarmy prattle! Like I don’t know what goes on in here.

BOIKO inspects the room. ROLF seizes the opportunity to chuck his gardening gloves under the bed.

ROLF

Is there someway I could be of assistance?

BOIKO

You can fetch a time turner and make it so I never let a room to your deceitful, lazy arse!

ROLF

I’m not certain that’s possible within the known parameters of temporal magic.

BOIKO shoves ROLF’S feet off the table.

BOIKO

How you can sit there, smiling like a Confunded ninny, after I begged four times to _can it with your blooming Horklumps?_

ROLF

I’m sure I’ve no idea – 

BOIKO

(Waggles the vegetable)

What’s this then? No idea, clever boy, what this is?

ROLF

Several... possibilities spring to mind.

BOIKO

It’s an aubergine, you cad! Or it was before it got poked to a pincushion by your spikey fungus balls!

ROLF

I haven’t the foggiest as to how those pesky Horklumps permeated your garden, Mr Boiko. And, incidentally, Horklumps aren’t fungi. They’re invertebrates. A common misconception. They mimic mushrooms while not actually –

BOIKO

No one cares about your studies, boy! You’re breeding pests in my boarding house. It’s not safe – its not sanitary – and it’s never happening again!

He throws ROLF’S possessions out the door.

  


INT. BOIKO’S BOARDING HOUSE. DAY

ROLF rushes to collect his things as BOIKO tosses out more.

ROLF

Prudence, Mr Boiko, I implore you! If this is about my rent, I’m eagerly expecting an appointment to the Ministry any day now. I’ve been assured a position in the Department for Magical Creatures.

BOIKO

Is what you’ve said all year! Listen to the Augury, boy. The Ministry don’t want you. And neither do I!

Beat. ROLF concentrates his anger.

ROLF

Mr Boiko. I am not a boy. I am a wizard. And as a wizard I have certain rights and protections under the Statute of Magical Secrecy. It is illegal to throw a wizard on the streets of muggle London without a week’s notification, les you endanger –

BOIKO

I warned you plenty. Now’s final notice. Take your things and get!

ROLF

On what grounds are you evicting me? You’ve no evidence, no proof –

There is a terrible scream from MRS SPUDMORE’s room.

  


INT. BOIKO’S BOARDING HOUSE – MRS SPUDMOORE’S ROOM. DAY

BOIKO unlocks the door. ROLF stands by.

Inside sits MRS SPUDMORE, rasping. The crate is open on her vanity. A spiny Horklump is impaled on the edge of her mouth. She turns to them.

BOIKO

Mrs Spudmore? 

ROLF

Well. Really, Mrs Spudmore. Unlicensed breeding of an invasive magical species – I never!

BOIKO glares at ROLF.

SERIES OF SHOTS, objects moved by magic:

A) The Horklump is suctioned off MRS SPUDMORE’s face.

B) The crate is shoved into ROLF’s arms.

C) ROLF’s clothes are stuffed into a suitcase.

D) The suitcase locks. And finally...

  


EXT. BOIKO’S BOARDING HOUSE. DAY 

E) The front door slams in ROLF’s face.

In a row of unassuming terraced houses, BOIKO’S does its best to blend in and fails. Garden gnomes fill the windows.

ROLF cradles his crate, the suitcase at his feet, still in his slippers and dressing gown.

ROLF

All my books? And research! What about...? You can’t...

(Beat)

At least let me use the floo?

He looks about. This place isn’t safe, full of pedestrians on phones, their ordinariness terrifying. ROLF edges out of their way, dragging his suitcase off the pavement.

Screeching breaks – an angry HONK! ROLF spins and shields his face with the crate.

He cowers, then gingerly peeks out at the stopped lorry.

  


EXT. AMANDA’S FLAT. DAY

An old van marked ‘HEATING & PLUMBING’ is parked outside. There’s no phone number, no other distinguishing details.

In the window is a figure in a grey plumber’s jumpsuit.

  


INT. AMANDA’S FLAT. DAY

HEATHER and DEAN by the window. HEATHER’s in the jumpsuit, her hair tucked under a cap. She’s alert, taking notes with a pencil and pad. DEAN’s put on a shirt. He sits against the wall and stares at the floor.

HEATHER eyes PLUTO and AMANDA across the room. 

AMANDA hasn’t changed since this morning. She sits on a wooden stool. Her eyes are wide and blank. 

PLUTO, dressed identically to HEATHER, stands over AMANDA, his wand raised. He’s pale with sunken eyes and a quiet grin. 

HEATHER

Any other witnesses? Neighbours? The landlady?

DEAN

I said we were alone.

HEATHER

And the window? When was the last time you refreshed your Muggle Repellent Charm?

DEAN

I haven’t cast one.

HEATHER squints at him.

DEAN

Muggles live here! I can’t have her getting cross-eyed every time she looks out the window.

HEATHER

Then buy some bloody curtains, Thomas. Is it any wonder we keep coming back?

DEAN

I keep up every other protective charm I can. And peeping Toms’re hardly the problem.

HEATHER

No. The problem is you think it’s fine for a Magical Law Enforcement Officer to be shacking up with a Muggle! It’s only a matter of time before...

AMANDA drops her head and sighs. HEATHER and DEAN turn.

PLUTO lowers his wand. His voice is a snide drawl.

PLUTO

All right, Ms Amanda. Once more time. Where are you this morning?

AMANDA

I’m... home. My flat.

PLUTO

Good. That’s right. And what happened today in your flat?

AMANDA

I saw Dean. But he had work. He...

(Noticing DEAN)

Dean! Why... Why’re you still here?

PLUTO

(Glares over his shoulder)

An excellent question...

HEATHER

C’mon.

She escorts DEAN from the flat. DEAN and AMANDA’s eyes linger on each other.

AMANDA

Dean? You ok? Dean, something’s wrong. Something happened... 

PLUTO redirects her attention and sways his wand hypnotically.

PLUTO

Oh no, nothing wrong today, Ms. Amanda. Beautiful morning. Just watch the birdie...

(Points his wand)

Obliviate!

AMANDA’s eyes glaze over, her face goes slack.

  


EXT. MINISTRY GUEST ENTERANCE. DAY

ROLF carts his suitcase and the crate down a dingy Central London street. He wears a tweed coat with a bowtie and boutonniere. His hair’s slicked back, his skin is glowing.

He squeezes into a broken-down phone box by a graffiti-covered wall. ROLF lifts the receiver, but doesn’t hold it to his ear. He dials 6-2-4-4-2 on the rotary. A cool, female voice fills the booth.

WELCOME WITCH (V.O.)

Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business.

ROLF

Rolf Scamander. A desperate attempt to salvage my dignity.

A badge with the words ‘ROLF SCAMANDER – ACT OF DESPIRATION’ rattles down the coin return. 

WELCOME WITCH (V.O.)

Thank you. Visitor, please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes.

ROLF pins it on. 

The floor of the phone box shudders and slowly sinks below the pavement. ROLF descends into darkness.

WELCOME WITCH (V.O.)

You are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium.

  


INT. MINISTRY OF MAGIC ATRIUM. DAY

ROLF’s phone box lowers into a magnificent hall – walls lined with gilded fireplaces where wizards appear and disappear in puffs of green fire. Dark wood floors lead to a set of golden gates. Scores of Ministry workers march towards them. 

The phone box reaches the floor and springs open.

WELCOME WITCH (V.O.)

The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day.

ROLF joins the march. He passes a pool of water with a pedestal for a fountain, but no fountain is there.

He reaches a checkpoint where SECURITY OFFICERS divert the crowd into queues.

SECURITY OFFICER

Visitors to the left! Have your wands ready for inspection! 

ROLF gets in the left queue. An OLDER WITCH behind him looks to the end.

OLDER WITCH

That’s new.

Visitors step up one at a time into a shallow ring of water on the floor. A stout watchwizard (nametag: ‘GORE’) weighs their wands behind a security desk. 

OLDER WITCH

I remember when you didn’t even need your wand weighed to get into the Ministry. Those days are long gone, that’s for sure.

ROLF

Is that a puddle? 

OLDER WITCH

It’s a right nuisance’s what it is. They should hand out goulashes if they expect us all to get our feet wet.

GORE hands back a wand and motions for the next wizard.

GORE

Present your wand and step into the pool. C’mon sir, keep it moving.

ROLF panics. He fidgets with the Horklump crate, debating if it will fit into his suitcase.

OLDER WITCH

Something the matter?

ROLF

(Stepping out of the queue)

I’ve just remembered I don’t have an appointment at the Ministry. I’m actually horribly daft.

GORE

Next!

He points at ROLF, who reluctantly approaches the desk.

GORE

Step in the pool.

ROLF enters the water. It percolates. His hair springs into a mess, the glow fades from his cheeks, his boutonniere wilts. ROLF shudders and the water stills.

GORE grunts. He takes out a Security Sensor that looks like a golden car aerial and waves it.

GORE

Spread your arms. Any other transfigurative measures?

ROLF

Just... cosmetics.

The Security Sensor vibrates over the crate, but not the suitcase.

GORE

Got anything you’d like to declare?

ROLF stutters. GORE motions for him to hand it over. He lifts the crate onto the desk and cracks the lid.

GORE

Augh! That’s just wrong, mate. Warn a wizard.

A Horklump puffs its spikes at GORE.

ROLF

They’re Horklumps, perfectly harmless. Practically not even magical. 

GORE

You can’t come in here with a box full ‘a nasty shrooms!

ROLF

Oh no, Horklumps aren't actually mushrooms. They mimic fungi, you see, for camouflage and... Please, I have to get to the Department for Magical Creatures. It’s an emergency.

GORE

D’you have an appointment?

ROLF

Not exactly.

GORE

Wand. 

ROLF hands over his wand to be weighed. Ticker tape prints out of the scale’s stand. GORE rips it off and reads aloud.

GORE

‘Twelve-and-three-quarter inches, Core of...

(Perplexed)

Coral fronds and Occamy egg’?

ROLF

Ethically sourced wand cores. Family tradition.

GORE

(Squints at ROLF’s badge)

Sca... _Scamander?_ Blimey. You’re not–?

(Looks at the Horklumps)

These aren’t–?

ROLF

Oh, but they are! My grandfather’s personal Horklumps. Newton Scamander, Order of Merlin Second Class, one of the wizarding world’s greatest minds. The culmination of all his research. There, in that crate.

GORE hastily returns the wand.

GORE

My apologies Newt – err – Mr Scamander. Sir. Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, level four. Right you go. Next!

ROLF takes his belongings and leaps out of the puddle. 

His shoes squeak as he passes the gate and boards a crowded lift. ROLF is the only person beaming. The grate closes in front of his face.

  


INT. DEPARTMENT FOR MAGICAL CREATURES – ENTERANCE. DAY

ROLF exits the lift with several floating paper aeroplanes.

The corridor is filled with birdcages and exotic animal calls. A loose BILLYWIG whizzes past. Lots of potted tropical plants; windows overlook a lush sunset. A wizard and two GOBLINS toast each other at a bar cart. ROLF is in heaven.

He stops in front of a white-haired portrait. The caption: ‘NEWTON ARTEMIS FIDO SCAMANDER, DEPARTMENT HEAD 1948-1979’.

NEWT’S portrait smiles and nods at ROLF. ROLF adjusts his bowtie for his grandfather’s approval and walks on. 

A RECEPTIONIST’s desk guards the way. She shouts over the birds to someone in a beekeeper’s suit.

RECEPTIONIST

You need to file a report with Improper Use of Magic. Animagi aren’t under our authority. I said we _don’t do Animagi!_

A witch passes pushing a terrarium with a huge purple toad. ROLF hides behind it and duckwalks past the RECEPTIONIST.

  


INT. DEPARTMENT FOR MAGICAL CREATURES. DAY

Further in are cubicles, fish tanks. We hear O.S. boardroom banter as ROLF approaches a door marked, ‘DEPRTMENT HEAD – AMOS DIGGORY’. 

ROLF goes to knock, but the door opens and out steps BOB, a big, balding wizard with a grey beard. 

BOB

And he says, ‘That’s not a chicken, that’s my fire crab!’

DIGGORY can’t stop laughing. He’s in his sixties, with glasses and a ruddy face. He moves to close the door.

BOB

And it took three Aurors to transfigure it back! Ho! Anyway, Amos, see you Sunday.

DIGGORY

See you, Bob. Keep up the...

(Notices Rolf)

Oh.

ROLF waits for BOB to saunter off and extends a hand.

ROLF

Mr Diggory! Extraordinary pleasure seeing you again. I hope you don’t mind me popping in, you did say I’d always be welcome. 

DIGGORY

Did I? I don’t recall.

DIGGORY looks at ROLF’s hand, but does not shake it. ROLF lets it fall.

ROLF

Could I have a word?

  


INT. AMOS DIGGORY’S OFFICE. DAY

DIGGORY’S office is a stuffier, grander extension of the department outside. He sits behind a desk covered in stacks of paper work. One stack in noticeably higher than all the others. He keeps a photo of his late son next to a Hufflepuf prefect’s badge. On the wall is a photo of Minister for Magic KINGSLEY SHACKLEBOLT.

ROLF hauls in his suitcase and crate. He is not offered a seat, but takes one anyway.

ROLF

Last we spoke, I’m afraid I gave the impression I was dead-set on serving in the Beast Division.

DIGGORY

You called it a ‘divine calling.’

ROLF

Yes, well. I have a tremendous predilection for the study of Magical Beasts. And any other position would be a tragic waste of my natural talent, but even my grandfather started in the House Elf Relocation Office.

DIGGORY

Oh no! The House Elves don't need another enthusiast!

(Taps the tower of paperwork)

They are _beyond_ well spoken for, I assure you.

ROLF

Then the Pest Advisory Board? I’m terribly good with Chizpurfles –

DIGGORY

Rolf, my boy. May I be frank? 

Beat. ROLF swallows his words.

DIGGORY

We hold your grandfather in the highest regard. And always will, because... Well, because the Prophet’s in a tizzy whenever he disagrees with us. But he’s retired. We don’t take orders from Newt Scamander, not on the price of Puffskins and certainly not on who we hire.

ROLF

I’m not seeking preferential treatment! That’s why I did fieldwork after Hogwarts – the Congo, the Himalayas. I’ve been published in numerous...

DIGGORY

It’s not just your name, Rolf. You... You missed the war. A lot’s changed while you were off chasing Hinkypunks. Affiliations. Priorities.

ROLF

Sir, I am a desperate man. I’ll start as low you like, lower than low, so low you can’t even se me. Snip tails, sweep cages. 

DIGGORY

Perhaps... I could find room in the Centaur Liaison Office?

ROLF

The Centaur...? Mr Diggory, I’m not a troll!

DIGGORY

And this isn’t an unemployment agency! That’s the only vacancy the department has to offer.

ROLF

Then... another department? You must have some sway. I appeal to your mercy, sir. I’ll do anything. 

DIGGORY

...Anything?

  


INT. AUROR HEADQUARTERS. DAY

DEAN pushes through double oak doors into a crowded office. Wanted posters and newspaper snippets cover the cubicles. On the wall is a large map of Great Britain and Ireland with pins.

DEAN carries his rucksack. He passes ERNIE MACMILLAN (twenty-four, blonde) and DEIRDRE DILLONSBY (petite, short hair, fiery eyes).

ERNIE

Ay, Dean! Problem with the Missus?

DILLONSBY

Was it the same skirt as last week or are you out to terrorize every woman in London?

DEAN

Thanks, Dillonsby. I’ll remember that next time you’ve got your head stuck down a rubbish chute.

DILLONSBY

That was once and it had fangs!

ERNIE

Heads up, Robards has his eye out for you.

DEAN groans. He eyes GAWAYNE ROBARDS. Fit, dressed impeccably, wears an eyepath, clearly the boss. ROBARDS is deep in conversation with a witch.

DEAN runs for another set of doors. He glances over his shoulder. He’s going to make it, grabs the handle, then...

ROBARDS

Thomas!

DEAN forces a smile, waves at his boss. ROBARDS closes in.

ROBARDS

Thomas, I need to speak with you.

DEAN

I’m delivering an artefact for quarantine. Can it wait?

ROBARDS

Afraid not.

Beat. DEAN looks ROBARDS in the eye.

DEAN

Are you firing me?

ROBARDS

Not yet, Thomas.

DEAN

(Steps through the door)

Then it can wait.

  


INT. DEPARTMENT OF MAGICAL LAW – CORRIDOR. DAY

ROBBARDS follows DEAN down a shabby corridor with a broom cupboard and a door marked ‘MISUSE OF MUGGLE ARTEFACTS’.

DEAN

I notified Magical Accidents, followed protocol to a T.

ROBARDS

It’s not that...

DEAN

I’ll do whatever discipline you like, I’ve got it coming. But please – a minute alone in my office without anyone reminding me I got my girlfriend attacked by a mobile. That’s all I need.

DEAN opens the door to Misuse of Muggle Artefacts.

ROLF is at the desk, watering Horklumps out of a teakettle. He looks up. 

DEAN

(To ROBARDS)

Where’s Perkins?

  


INT. MISUSE OF MUGGLE ARTEFACTS OFFICE. DAY

There’s hardly room in the tiny office for ROBARDS to stand. DEAN and ROLF sit at two desks crammed together. The walls are lined with filing cabinets, shelves with old toasters and tellies, a poster for West Ham United.

ROBARDS

Perkins retired.

DEAN

What? Just like that?

ROBARDS

The man was two-hundred-and-two. This can’t come as a surprise. We both know he was no help to you.

DEAN

That’s not true! He... knew where all the paperwork went.

ROBARDS

You’re getting a promotion, Thomas. Try not to be cross about it. Pending authorization Scamander reports directly to you. 

ROLF

Thrilled to make you aquaint–

DEAN

What?

ROBARDS

You’ve been asking for support since the day you got here. This is it. Now I expect a report on this morning’s fiasco by three.

DEAN

Sir, do you mean –

ROBARDS

I mean – I’m appointing the man who brought a cursed telephone home to his Muggle girlfriend to be head of Misuse of Muggle Artefacts. Dumbledore save us all.

He shuts the door behind him.

Beat. ROLF and DEAN are alone together.

DEAN opens his rucksack and removes the cursed flip phone. The case is still chipped, bound shut with Spello-tape. 

He steps behind his desk, covered in Horklumps. He’s not sure what to make of them, or their owner. 

DEAN

Do you mind?

ROLF scurries to move the crate.

Drawn on the desk is a circle with runes, very DIY. DEAN puts the phone inside and traces the ring with his wand.

DEAN

Salve Maledictum. Protego Horribilis. Fulgari Totalum.

He aims his wand over the phone.

DEAN

(To ROLF)

Just... stand back. _Specialis Revelio!_

Nothing. DEAN gives his wand a shake.

DEAN

Finite Incantatem. Aparecium. Petixayew!

Zilch. He slumps into the chair. 

ROLF

This artefact, it’s cursed?

DEAN

Attacked a Muggle in Wembley. I thought the spell’d worn off, till this morning...

(Offers his hand)

Dean Thomas. Sorry, didn’t catch your name?

ROLF

(Shakes a bit too vigorously)

Rolf Scamander. The pleasure is mine.

DEAN

Are you M–LES?

ROLF

Pardon?

DEAN

Magical Law Enforcement Squad? Curse-Breakers? Where’d you come up?

ROLF

Nowhere. I’m... a magizoologist. 

DEAN

What?

ROLF

Magizoology. The study of magical creatures?

DEAN

Right. So you’ve no Dark Arts-fighting experience?

ROLF

I tripped over a Lethifold once.

DEAN

But you're good with Muggles?

ROLF

Terrified of them.

DEAN

(Points to the phone)

D’you have any idea what that is?

ROLF

...No.

DEAN

Brilliant.

ROLF

(Leans over the desk)  


Err, could I have a go?

DEAN

By all means.

ROLF takes a deep breath and flourishes his wand. DEAN rolls his eyes.

ROLF

Specialis Recanto!

Owl eyes light up the screen. The phone shrieks and snaps into the air. Cords of light shackle it to circle. ROLF leaps back, knocking into cabinets. 

DEAN is fascinated. He holds out his wand and the phone drops to the desk, cawing like a wounded bird.

ROLF

You’re hurting it!

DEAN

What?

ROLF

It’s injured!

DEAN

It’s a mobile.

The phone quivers. ROLF aims his wand.

ROLF

Reparo.

The chipped phone is healed. ROLF gently strokes it.

ROLF

Poor defenceless birdie...

DEAN

It’s not a bird – it’s some cruel git’s idea of a joke.

ROLF

(Accusingly)

Owls can hear you.

DEAN

It’s a telephone! 

DEAN takes out his own mobile to demonstrate. His background is a photo of AMANDA.

DEAN

See? Muggles use them like owls to send messages. You hold it to your ear. It’s a practical joke.

ROLF

You mean... someone trained it to attack Muggles? Why on earth...?

DEAN

(Gestures to the shelves)

It’s more common than you think. Fire breathing toasters, exploding toilets. People are cruel.

ROLF

(To the phone)

They trained you to kill? It’s all right, little one. Never again...

DEAN

Cruel to Muggles. Again, not a real bird.

ROLF

Shhh, you’re safe.

ROLF cups the phone and lifts it off the desk. A chord of light snaps it out of his hands. He’s pulled forward – his face slams on the desk. 

  


INT. AUROR HEADQUARTERS. DAY 

ROLF lays back in an office chair, his nose stuffed with tissue, gushing blood. ERNIE and DILLONSBY lean over him.

ROLF

I’m fie. Reary, iff nofing.

DILLONSBY

You’re not fine! You’re bursting like gold out a Goblin’s arse.

ERNIE

I think I’ve still got one of Weasley’s snackboxes in my locker...

He runs off. DEAN watches from the next cubicle. O.S. someone enters the office. DEAN turns.

It’s HEATHER, wearing her robes and carrying a memo folder. She catches DEAN’s eye, but disappears back out the door. DEAN follows her.

  


INT. DEPARTMENT OF MAGICAL LAW – ENTERANCE. DAY

DEAN chases HEATHER down the corridor to the lifts. Employees pass. Enchanted windows depict a light rain.

DEAN

Heather?

HEATHER

(Spins; hands DEAN the file)

Thomas! File on the Wembley Muggle. Still says he can’t remember where he bought the phone.

DEAN

Err, thanks. You could have paper-planed it.

HEATHER

I... came to apologize. What I said at your flat – I was completely off the handle.

DEAN

No, Heather –

She hands him a flat parcel wrapped in newspaper.

HEATHER

Got you this. It’s a One-Way Window-Warder. They’re mostly for squibs, but my gran swears by them.

DEAN

Thanks, you didn’t have to. Amanda... would appreciate it.

HEATHER

(Pause)

You have to tell her, Thomas. I’m sorry, I know it’s not my place, but you’re constantly putting the both of you in danger. 

DEAN

Yeah, chasing down enchanted kitchenware.

HEATHER

She still deserves to know. Pulling out the wand’s never easy, but the longer you put it off –

DEAN

I know you’re right. Believe me, I know.

HEATHER smiles at him. She almost says more, but doesn’t. He watches her board the lift.

  


INT. MISUSE OF MUGGLE ARTEFACTS OFFICE. DAY

DEAN flips open the file on his desk: a moving photo of Muggle FREDDY BISHOP, his face befuddled and bruised.

ROLF tries to read the file upside down from across the desk. He has tissue plugged up his nostril.

ROLF

What’re we reading?

DEAN

Report from Accidental Magic.

ROLF

Our first assignment? Are we hitting the field?

DEAN puts the file in his bag. He gets ready to leave.

DEAN

 _We’re_ not hitting anything. You’re not authorized and have no defensive training.

ROLF

Well. I know I’m not your ideal partner, but this isn’t exactly my dream job either. If you aren’t willing to give me a chance –

DEAN

You wanna help?

(Points to the phone)

Sit here and guard that. Ok?

ROLF

Yes, fine. But this is really an under utilization of my...

DEAN’s already left. ROLF deflates into his chair. His eyes go to the flip phone.

  


EXT. SHAFTESBURY AVENUE – CHINESE RESTAURANT. NIGHT

Out in a crowd, FREDDY BISHOP looks just as dazed and beat up as his photo. He stumbles into a Chinese restaurant.

DEAN peeks out of the crowd and follows FREDDY in.

INT. CHINESE RESTAURANT. NIGHT 

DEAN takes the table behind FREDDY, they’re back to back. The restaurant’s small, with commotion in the kitchen.

A waitress brings them menus. FREDDY squints at his. DEAN pretends to read, but is looking over his shoulder.

Out from a coat pocket comes his wand. He checks around. 

The waitress is texting behind the register. The only other customers are a couple close to kissing.

DEAN stretches in a fake yawn, taking aim at FREDDY’s head.

DEAN’s mobile rings – a loud, jarringly upbeat J-pop song. Everyone turns, including FREDDY. DEAN drops his wand down his sleeve and rushes to answer.

DEAN

(Hushed; on the phone)

Ricky!

  


INT. RICKY’S ROOM. NIGHT

RICKY, fifteen, sits cross-legged on her bed, pink mobile to her ear. Her room’s filled with stuffed animals, a beanbag chair, anime posters.

RICKY

Yo!

INTERCUT:

DEAN

Why’re you calling?

RICKY

‘Cause I love you and I wanna say hi.

DEAN

Liar! How’d you get that God-awful song on my phone?

RICKY

Uh, that ‘God-awful’ song’s the highest downloaded single for six weeks. In Japan.

DEAN

You know I’m working.

RICKY

As a delivery boy? Nobody buys that.

DEAN

I cannot believe mum got you a phone. I knew you’d pull rubbish like this.

RICKY

Uh, sorry calling my big bro’s rubbish. Sorry you hate talking to me. Big Deanie.

DEAN

Ericatastrophe!

RICKY

Deanopause! Say hi to Amanda.

(Faking kisses)

Mw mwa mwa mwa mwa.

DEAN hangs up. The waitress stands over him. FREDDY already has soup.

DEAN

Can I get a Mushroom Curry?

  


EXT. SHAFTESBURY AVENUE – CHINESE RESTAURANT. NIGHT

FREDDY exits the restaurant opening a fortune cookie wrapper. He cracks the cookie.

His fortune: ‘YOU GET THE FEELING YOU FORGOT SOMETHING IMPORTANT BEHIND THE RESTAURANT.’

He looks up and walks around the building. DEAN watches from inside.

  


EXT. SHAFTESBURY AVENUE – BACK ALLEY. NIGHT

FREDDY eats the cookie and makes his way down a grubby back alley. He has a look around the skip. 

The back door opens, a dishwasher dumps out a bucket of murky water, then darts inside. The door slams.

DEAN (O.S.)

Oi, Freddy!

FREDDY spins. He’s backed himself down a dead-end. DEAN steps out of the shadows.

FREDDY

Do – do I know –

DEAN’s wand and eyes lock onto FREDDY.

DEAN

_Legilimens._

**We _rush_ into FREDDY’S mind. **

MONTAGE:

A) An irate WOMAN throws FREDDY’s clothes off a balcony. 

WOMAN

(Holds up a mobile)

And I’m keeping this! Don’t think you’re ever calling me again, ya rotten twister!

B) A ring of schoolboys kick a child on the ground.

SCHOOLBOYS

Fat Freddy Bishop! Ate so much he sicked up!

A school bell rings.

C) A bell chimes as FREDDY enters a shop.

A seedy CLERK with a toothy smile passes FREDDY a loose mobile – the cursed flip phone – over the counter.

D) Something attacks FREDDY’s face. He screams and bats at it. An owl screeches.

E) Memories fades in and out of white – pieces are missing. PLUTO’s voice echoes from void.

PLUTO (V.O.)

And the bird attacked you, Mr Freddy. That’s right, did a right number to your face...

**We _rush_ out of FREDDY’S mind. **

Back in the alley, FREDDY on his knees, screaming.

FREDDY

Stop! Stop! I can’t remember what I’ve forgotten!

DEAN is sweating, out of breath. He comes closer.

FREDDY

Wha d’you want with me?

DEAN

I’m so sorry.

(Points his wand)

Obliviate.

FREDDY relaxes, his face goes slack.

DEAN marches down the alley and – Whoosh! Crack! Disapparates in a blur. 

  


INT. AMANDA’S FLAT. NIGHT

DEAN opens the door. His eyes are sunken. AMANDA looks up from folding laundry.

AMANDA

Hey, lovely!

DEAN

Hey. 

DEAN settles in and helps AMANDA fold the clothes.

AMANDA

Oh my God you would not believe work. Nicole’s at it all morning, trying to do a ‘lunch outing’ to Camden. You know her brother’s got a food truck? With like ten pound kebabs? Then Amalia rings to say there’s a catered luncheon on three, proper buffet and everything. And Nicole _flips,_ calls Amalia a ‘harpy’ and drags Benjie off to Camden for the rest of the day. I brought back pesto. 

DEAN

Thanks, you didn’t have to.

AMANDA

Did you get batteries?

DEAN

I forgot.

AMANDA

Some delivery boy you are. How was work? You get that mess sorted?

DEAN

Err. About that...

He opens his rucksack. There’s his wand. He reaches for it.

DEAN

Do you remember... when I said I went to a really weird boarding school? 

AMANDA

Oh before I forget, Gary and your dad called.

DEAN

What? Why?

AMANDA

All day you’re either driving or in the Tube. It’s not their fault you’re out of service.

DEAN

Right, sorry. What’s dad want?

AMANDA

They’ve got West Ham tickets. I swear Gary’s like a clone of your old man. Joined at the hip. 

DEAN

Yeah, well. There’s a reason for that...

AMANDA

What?

DEAN

Nothing.

AMANDA

What were you saying about work?

DEAN

Amanda, I...

(Looks at his wand)

I can’t keep stringing you on. I’m sorry. I need to move out.

AMANDA

What? 

DEAN

This is how it has to be.

AMANDA

Dean! I... I had no idea anything was wrong!

DEAN

No, you couldn’t have. That’s my fault, I kept you in the dark. 

AMANDA

Oh my God are you actually cheating? When I called you London Lothario I...

DEAN talks simultaneously over AMANDA’S aside...

AMANDA

I can’t remember why I called you that...

DEAN

It’s nothing like that! 

AMANDA

Then tell me. What are you hiding?

DEAN

I want to, but... we’re not ready. I’m not ready to do that to you.

AMANDA

What the hell?

DEAN

(Crying)

I need you to know, what I did, I did to keep you safe. That’s not an excuse, that’s... just how it happened. I wanted to protect you and I screwed up. I’m so sorry.

AMANDA

(Hugs DEAN)

It’s ok. You’re exhausted, have some pesto, tell me in the morning.

DEAN

(Breaks away)

No, I can’t stay. Amanda, I love you, but you’re not going to understand –

AMANDA

 _I’m_ not going to understand? The hell do you know I won’t understand?

DEAN

I just... know. I’ve tried.

AMANDA

What, Dean? I’m not smart enough to share your secrets? God, I don’t even want to know, if it’s so awful you can’t bear to spend another night!

DEAN struggles for words.

AMANDA

If you want to tell me the truth, then do it. If you’re leaving, then leave. But make up your mind!

DEAN frowns.

SERIES OF SHOTS:

A) DEAN zips up his rucksack.

B) Tosses messy clothes into a duffel bag.

C) Grabs his pencil case by the drawing of AMANDA. 

D) His toothbrush, his razor.

  


EXT. AMANDA’S FLAT. NIGHT

DEAN exits the building with his bags. He looks up at AMANDA’s silhouette in the window. She steps away.

DEAN heads into the night.

  


INT. AUROR’S HEADQUARTERS. NIGHT

Lights remain on at a couple of cubicles. DEAN carries his bags through the dark office, past the wall map.

  


INT. MISUSE OF MUGGLE ARTEFACTS OFFICE. NIGHT

DEAN enters a pitch-black room. He flicks his wand, the lights go on. ROLF is slumped on a chair, his coat a blanket. He jolts awake.

DEAN

Why’re you here?

ROLF

You – you said guard the...

DEAN

Not all night! You have nowhere better to sleep?

DEAN

A funny story! As it happens, I... do not.

ROLF’s glibness shatters into gloom. DEAN sits on the desk.

DEAN

You can’t sleep here. And neither can I.

ROLF

I was getting along fine before you interrupted.

DEAN

You really have nowhere to go?

ROLF

Do you think I’d pass out on an office chair if I did?

DEAN

But Purebloods... I mean, you must have family?

ROLF

Trolls have family. Doesn’t stop them sleeping alone under bridges.

DEAN realizes the phone is missing. He looks around.

The cursed phone emerges from ROLF’s coat, the Spello-tape severed. It chirps.

DEAN

(Jumps up; aims his wand)

The helluv you freed it?

ROLF

Now, now! Prudence, Mr Thomas! Look...

ROLF takes some owl treats from his pocket. The phone perches on his finger and snaps open and shut, mimicking eating. It makes a mess of crumbs over the floor.

ROLF

She’s perfectly peaceful. Aren’t you, Uloo? Yes my Uloo, my silly little birdie.

DEAN

Were you sleeping with it?

ROLF

Yes. We’re good friends now.

DEAN

It attacked a man!

ROLF

No. Uloo’s a good owl. She’d never attack unprovoked.

DEAN gapes.

ROLF

Oh, fine...

(Aims his wand at a toaster)

_Incarcifors._

The toaster reforms into a birdcage. ROLF puts the phone inside.

ROLF

Better?

DEAN

Yes. Much.

DEAN looks ROLF over. He’s dishevelled, needs a shave.

DEAN

(Leaving)

C’mon then. I know a witch.

ROLF

You mean... come with you?

DEAN

Well we’re not trolls, are we, Scamander?

ROLF grabs his luggage, plus the birdcage, and hurries after DEAN. He flicks his wand, out go the lights.

  


EXT. CHARING CROSS ROAD – LEAKY CULDRON. NIGHT

Cars and Muggles hurry past, oblivious to a bar song emanating from a dark, narrow pub. The sign reads: ‘THE LEAKY CAULDRON’.

  


INT. LEAKY CAULDRON. NIGHT

The old pub is filled with picture frames and rustic gas light chandeliers. There’s a large, unlit fireplace.

A busy night, the crowd sings of Barnabas the Barmy’s ill-fated troll ballet. A wizard juggles beer bottles. Behind the bar, drinks refill themselves. 

Wooden barrels shoot up the basement stairs, followed by young landlady HANNAH ABBOTT. Her blonde hair is pulled back. She’d flustered, bright red.

HANNAH

All right, who asked for Firewhiskey? I said _Firewhiskey!_ Oh, not all at once!

Above HANNAH, SLYVIE the maid descends the stairs with a dinner tray. 

SYLVIE

Wizard in One wants you, Ms Hannah.

HANNAH

Again? 

SYLVIE

Seems the mirror’s acting up. Told him his hat was ‘gaudy.’

HANNAH

Oh! This is what we get letting to Warlocks...

O.S. a bottle breaks. HANNAH stomps over to the juggler.

HANNAH

I asked you to stop juggling Butterbeer! Now look at what –

Green flames burst from the fireplace. ROLF pulls his luggage out of the hearth.

HANNAH

Welcome to the Leaky! Here for a room? Just – just hold on a...

(Back at the juggler.)

Hey! Don’t think you’re not scouring this mess! Get your backside –

Another burst of green. HANNA twists around.

HANNAH

Welcome to the Leaky Cauldron! Forgive the... Dean!

DEAN ducks under the mantle with a tired smile.

  


INT. LEAKY CAULDRON – SECOND FLOOR. NIGHT

HANNAH helps DEAN and ROLPH cart their bags up the stairs and down a dim corridor.

HANNAH

Neville will be so pleased to hear you popped by! He misses you lot, now that he’s held up in Hogwarts half the year.

DEAN

Tell him hi. Sorry I haven’t seen you since the wedding. I’ve been... hectic. 

HANNAH

Well we all have! I was on the hop when Tom died, but I think I’ve found my legs now. Here we are...

She opens room ‘24’. 

  


INT. LEAKY CAULDRON – ROOM 24. NIGHT

Two bedrooms open off a sitting room with polished oak furniture. A mirror hangs over the mantle. The windows look out on Diagon Alley. DEAN and ROLF enter.

HANNAH

Mind you, it’s empty ‘cause the last tenants turned out to be hags. Bit of a scandal when the Prophet found out.

DEAN

It’s just for a night. Two tops. And it’ll do beautifully.

Down the hall comes a crash and a bright flash. O.S. a horse whinnies.

HANNAH

Merlin’s goblet, what’s it now? Night, boys. Say hi to Ernie.

DEAN

Will do, Hannah.

She shuts the door. DEAN drops his bags and collapses in an armchair. 

ROLF steps to the window, takes in the room.

ROLF

I can’t pay you back for this...

DEAN

(Shutting his eyes)

Didn’t you hear? We’re honoured guests. Or tramps, however you want to put it...

  


INT. LEAKY CAULDRON – ROLF’S ROOM. NIGHT

ROLF enters a bedroom. It’s larger and warmer than anything at BOIKO’S. He checks on his Horklumps, the caged mobile. 

Decorating the bedframe are the words, ‘WAYFARING WIZARDS WELCOME’. ROLF flops down, stares at the ceiling, and closes his eyes.

  


INT. ROOM 24. DAY

An owl talon scratches at the window.

DEAN wakes up from the armchair. He stretches and answers the bird’s incessant tapping.

The owl flutters in and drops a copy of _The Daily Prophet_ on the tea table. It sticks out its leg, where a tiny coin purse is attached. DEAN fumbles for a Knut and drops it in. The owl zooms back out. 

DEAN takes the paper to ROLF’s door.

DEAN

This your Prophet?

The moment DEAN knocks, ROLF answers. He’s fully dressed, more dapper than ever, not a hair out of place.

ROLF

Yes, thank you.

ROLF takes the paper and shuts the door. 

DEAN hobbles back to his chair. There’s a knock from the corridor.

ROLF bursts out to answer it, carrying the paper and his Horklump crate.

In the corridor, SYLVIE holds a breakfast tray.

SYLVIE

You called for –

The tray floats out of her hands.

ROLF

Thanks.

He shuts the door. The tray follows him across the room and rests on the tea table.

ROLF pours a cup of tea and puts a piece of toast in his mouth. He sits across from DEAN, spooning worms to the Horklumps.

DEAN

(Grabs some toast)

You’re not grossed out eating over...

ROLF

Over...? Oh, my Horklumps! Sorry, I’m in the middle of an experiment. My former landlord confiscated all my findings – not to mention my books! Months of data down the drain...

DEAN

I thought Horklumps were useless?

ROLF

You and every magizoologist for the last century! Yet Horklump Juice is listed in countess healing potions. The price’s risen to seven Sickles a bottle!

DEAN

So... not useless?

ROLF

On the contrary. These are the most worthless, utterly mundane magical creatures in existence. That is what I’ve set out to prove!

He continues spooning worms. DEAN takes a bite of toast.

  


EXT. CHARING CROSS ROAD – LEAKY CAULDRON. DAY

DEAN and ROLF exit the pub.

ROLF

Aren’t we taking the floo?

DEAN

Not where we’re going.

ROLF

Does that mean I’m on the case?

DEAN

You’re unofficially authorized. Congrats.

DEAN pulls another cheap mobile from his rucksack and hands it to ROLF.

DEAN

Here.

ROLF

Oh, I’m not qualified to handle...

DEAN

It’s not a real phone. It’s a closed circuit over the Wizarding Wireless.

ROLF

Then why does it look like a Muggle ‘mobile’?

DEAN

‘Cause you can’t walk around with a tube radio to your ear just ‘cause it matches your aesthetic! Open it.

ROLF opens his mobile. DEAN’s starts to ring.

DEAN

(On the phone)

Hello?

ROLF

Hell – Oh! I can hear you. Say something.

DEAN

(On the phone)

You're welcome.

ROLF

Oh, it makes so much more sense now! No wonder they all have these.

(Dashing away)

Wait – let me try from over there!

DEAN

No, we’re going the other way!

  


EXT. CHARING CROSS ROAD/ELECTRONIC SHOPS. DAY

DEAN and ROLF walk in the opposite direction.

ROLF

Then the man you saw in the victim’s memory? He cursed the phone?

DEAN

Unlikely. Probably a Muggle working in the shop. But I saw his face.

SERIES OF SHOTS: 

A) Electronics salespeople peering over counters. None of them are the one.

ROLF (V.O.)

Then if we find that shop clerk...

DEAN (V.O.)

Emphasis on if.

B) ROLF and DEAN return a salesman’s glare, then do an about-turn and head back out the door.

ROLF (V.O.)

...He’ll know who cursed the phone?

DEAN (V.O.)

We hope.

C) ROLF checks stops off a map of Central London.

D) In another shop, DEAN grabs the map and starts drawing the flip phone for the clerk.

  


EXT. TOTTENHAM COURT ROAD – BOLTS’N’BYTES. DAY

DEAN and ROLF trudge onward.

DEAN

(Checks the map)

Four more up here.

ROLF

Four more? Why on earth do Muggles need so many phones?

They stop in front of an awning: ‘BOLTS’N’BYTES ELECTRONICS’. The windows are covered in ‘SALE’ signs. DEAN peeks inside.

ROLF

Is it him?

DEAN

Don’t think so.

ROLF

Then let’s go!

DEAN

We should still ask around. This’ll go faster if we split up.

ROLF goes stiff.

DEAN

Come on, you wanted to help.

ROLF

But, what if I say something...

(Whispers)

Magical?

DEAN

It’s just one Muggle.

ROLF

What if more Muggles walk in?

DEAN takes HEATHER’S gift out of his bag. He unwraps it. 

The One-Way Window-Warder comes in an envelope covered in instructions: ‘APPLY DIRECTLY TO THE WARD-SIDE.’

DEAN slaps the window decal on the glass. Instantly, it changes colour, camouflaging over the ‘SALE’ signs. 

DEAN

There. Muggle-repel-er. That should ruin business for the day. 

ROLF

But like you said, I’m completely without training. I’m used to traveling with a Sherpa or a Warlock or –

DEAN

(Walking away)

All you do is browse. And if you find a phone that looks like ours, walk out and ring me.

ROLF takes a deep breath.

  


INT. BOLTS’N’BYTES ELECTRONICS. DAY

A bell jingles. JIMMY, a spotty clerk, looks up at ROLF.

ROLF

Hello, sir! I’m here today to purchase one of your _mobile phones._

  


INT. THE BODY ELECTRIC. DAY

DEAN enters yet another electronics shop. He checks the clerk – total stranger – and browses the aisles.

  


INT. BOLTS’N’BYTES ELECTRONICS. DAY

ROLF inspects a clock radio. It starts blaring music. He panics and slaps it frantically until it stops. 

JIMMY stares.

ROLF

Is there... anything you’d recommend?

JIMMY

Mobile you said? Phazer‘s flying off the shelves.

ROLF

What?

JIMMY

That Phazer’s flying... 

ROLF

Flying? Sir, mobile phones do not fly. What a shocking imagination you have!

MORRIS (O.S.)

He means it’s popular. With the lot we usually get in here.

MORRIS, the seedy CLERK of FREDDY’s memory, rises from the basement stairs behind the counter.

ROLF

And what lot is that?

MORRIS

You know. Pay-as-you-go paupers. Degenerates. Heathens, the lot of ‘em.

(Stares down ROLF)

Go n’ take your break, Jimmy.

JIMMY

Sure, Mr Morris.

JIMMY marches downstairs, obediently.

MORRIS

You’re looking for a phone. Anything in particular?

ROLF

Yes, actually! It’s sort of... grey and block-shaped...

MORRIS

(With a toothy smile)

Nice to have a proper gentleman like yourself in the shop for a change.

ROLF

Oh, why thank you.

MORRIS

I’m here talking to heathens all day long. Buy anything with plugs on it if you tell ‘em it’s the latest model. Spineless lemmings.

ROLF

(Edging away)

Yes, well. You don’t seem to carry the specific model I’m after so...

MORRIS

Oh, this’s just what we put out for the heathens. If you’ll take a look at our private collection, I’m confidant you’ll find what you’re looking for.

ROLF

Oh?

MORRIS

If you’d follow me.

MORRIS opens the counter for ROLF and descends the basement stairs. ROLF eagerly follows.

  


INT. THE BODY ELECTRIC. DAY

DEAN approaches the clerk.

DEAN

Hey, I’m looking...

His phone erupts – the jumpy J-pop song again. He turns around to answer it.

DEAN

(Hushed; on the phone)

Ricky! I told you...

  


INT. THE THOMASES’ HOUSE. DAY/p>

RICKY on her mobile outside the kitchen. AMANDA and MRS THOMAS talk heatedly in the b.g.

RICKY

Why’d you break up with Amanda?

INTERCUT:

DEAN

(Ducks down an aisle)

How’d you know?

RICKY

‘Cause she came to return Gary’s mini fridge. Only now she and mum are talking and –

DEAN

Oh God.

RICKY

Dean, did you not tell Amanda about... you know? _Marshmallows?_

DEAN

Why’s that everyone’s business?

RICKY

‘Cause mum said something about you being a... Marshmallow-er and it didn’t land super well.

DEAN

(Curses under his breath)

D’you need me?

RICKY

Well mum’s trying to talk herself out of it, but yeah. We could really use some marshmallows right about now.

RICKY

(Running out)

I’m coming.

  


INT. BOLTS’N’BYTES – BASEMENT. DAY

ROLF sits on a folding chair, alone in the shop basement. Behind him the trapdoor stairs are open.

His mobile rings, ROLF fumbles to answer.

ROLF

Hello?

  


EXT. TOTTENHAM COURT ROAD. DAY

DEAN’s on the other end, running.

DEAN

Scamander, I’m running home, but I’ll Apparate back soon as I can.

ROLF (V.O.)

Is something the matter?

DEAN

No. Well, maybe. Are you ok?

INTERCUT:

ROLF

Oh, yes. I’m waiting to see the owner’s full selection of mobiles.

DEAN

And you’re all right with him?

ROLF

Well he seems to have taken a shine to me, although I can't say the feeling’s mutual.

(Imitating MORRIS)

_‘Paltry paupers! Heathens the lot of them.’_

DEAN

What d’you mean?

ROLF

Well he has a very nasty attitude about his clientele. He smiles like a sliced mango, but he keeps calling them names. _‘Degenerates! Spineless heathens!’_

DEAN

Oh my God.

ROLF

What?

DEAN

He means Muggles.

ROLF

Muggles?

ROLF jerks around as the wall behind him rumbles. A fissure of blue light opens across his face. His eyes pop. The room fills with the caws of a hundred owls.

DEAN on the street. The line goes dead.

DEAN

Scamander...? Rolf?

DEAN runs back the way he came.

  


INT. BOLTS’N’BYTES. DAY

DEAN enters, the bell chimes. The shop is empty. He draws his wand. 

He searches the aisles, finds the open trapdoor, and leaps over the counter.

  


INT. BASEMENT. DAY

DEAN runs down the stairs. The folding chair is toppled. There’s nothing but boxes, a rubbish bin, a single door.

It’s locked.

DEAN

Alohamora!

Still locked. DEAN starts to panic. He raises his wand.

DEAN

Specialis Revelio!

The tip glows. DEAN slowly rotates, holding out his wand.

Blue light shines from a fissure in the cement wall.

  


INT. UNDERVAULT. DAY

A cavern of pipes and bedrock in the foundations under London. Blue light pours from the ceiling. Owl screeches echo down the tunnels.

A cement wall rumbles and splits in two, revealing DEAN in the basement. He steps through, breathless.

Across the ceiling is a net of undulating blue light, holding back a flock of mobile phones, flapping around and screeching as if they were birds.

ROLF (O.S.)

Mr Thomas!

DEAN

Rolf?

A flash of green light – DEAN is hoisted into the air by his ankle. Flipped upside down, his head slams into a pipe.

CUT TO BLACK

  


INT. UNDERVAULT. DAY (LATER)

DEAN groans and opens his eyes. His temple is bleeding. Both he and ROLF dangle upside down from their feet.

ROLF

Hello again...

Beneath them MORRIS riffles through DEAN’s rucksack. He has both their wands, as well as his own, which he keeps pointed up. JIMMY loiters in the b.g.

MORRIS

Seems I caught a couple Ministry dogs sniffing ‘round my shop.

ROLF

Ministry dogs? That’s an awfully brazen assumption. Where do you –

DEAN

He’s got my badge, mate.

ROLF

Well. Then he should know better than to assault us! Where do you get off, ambushing me and Mr Thomas?

DEAN

You’re gonna have to stop calling me that.

ROLF

The height of imprudence! It’s only a matter of time before this place is swarming with Aurors!

That doesn’t sit well with MORRIS. He backs away.

MORRIS

Jimmy! Keep an eye on our guests.

JIMMY

Sure, Mr Morris.

ROLF stares at JIMMY, whose face is eerily vacant. MORRIS’S footsteps fade. ROLF and DEAN are still upside down.

ROLF

On the job... does this sort of thing happen often?

DEAN

Not since the war.

ROLF

And do you have a plan?

DEAN

I thought the jinx might fade when he left... but it hasn’t...

ROLF

(Whimpering)

I’m. Such. An utter flop-up.

DEAN

Oh, please don’t start sulking.

ROLF

Yesterday I was unemployed and homeless. This morning I had a Ministry post and a room in the Leaky Cauldron. And now...

(Laughs)  


Well I’m obviously fired.

DEAN

It’s not your fault –

ROLF

Yes it is. Robards only made Perkins retire because I begged for the job. You were obviously better off with him. 

DEAN

Perkins was two hundred and two! He never solved cases with me.

ROLF

Oh? He never got himself kidnapped by a crazed mobile salesmen?

DEAN

No, but most of us don’t. Most of us’re stuck on the wing while the Aurors hog the spotlight. I can’t remember the last time I had to rescue someone!

ROLF

Well good thing you were here to save me – now everything’s fine!

ROLF’s inside pocket vibrates. He squirms.

ROLF

Ah! My coat pocket. Reach for it.

DEAN

Your arms aren’t bound.

ROLF

Oh do I still have arms? Good, ‘cause I can’t feel them! Just – grab it.

DEAN opens ROLF’s coat. The cursed flip phone flies out.

DEAN

Have you had that this whole time?

ROLF

Uloo will save us! Won’t you, Uloo?

ULOO flies away.

ROLF

She’s going for help!

DEAN

I seriously doubt that.

MORRIS’S footsteps announce his return. He carries DEAN’s bag and their wands.

MORRIS

All right, we’ll take this slow, one at a time. Who wants first?

ROLF

You’ll never make us talk! You hear me? Torture us till our eyes bleed, we’ll – 

ROLF falls to the floor.

MORRIS

Grab him.

JIMMY hoists ROLF’s limp body. MORRIS steps closer.

MORRIS

Always loyal to a fault, you Ministry dogs. Don’t let your loyalties blind you. You’re nothing but beasts of burden to–

Something crunches under his shoe. MORRIS drops DEAN’s bag and picks it up. 

Owl treats.

ULOO swoops down and assaults MORRIS’S hand.

DEAN head-buts JIMMY, who yells and lets go of ROLF. ROLF teeters on his own, his legs wobbly. 

MORRIS jabs his wand at ROLF, but ULOO bites him hard. With MORRIS distracted, ROLF grabs DEAN’S rucksack and smashes it down over MORRIS’S head. MORRIS screams and drops the stolen wands.

DEAN is finally released. He collapses on top of JIMMY and crawls to the wands.

MORRIS shuffles back. He flicks his wand and the luminous blue net melts away. A cloud of phones fills the cavern. 

MORRIS

(Aims at DEAN and ROLF)

Oppugno!

The phones attack.

  


INT. UNDERVAULT – TUNNELS. DAY

DEAN and ROLF scurry down adjacent tunnels, winding up the cavern. They can see each other between the pipes, but are meters apart. Flying mobiles chase them, clanging off the walls.

DEAN

Rolf? I have your wand!

ROLF

I’m here! I have your bag!

DEAN

Reducto!

He fires a blue blast at the pipes, which only clang and leak steam. Phones catch up to DEAN. He keeps running.

ROLF’s tunnel narrows. He gets on his knees and crawls. The phones attack his hair.

ROLF

Ow! I swear, owls usually love me.

DEAN

_They’re not real birds!_

ROLF

Well Horklumps aren’t plants, but –

(He gasps)

Horklumps! They mimic mushrooms but really they’re beasts!

DEAN

They’re not Horklumps either!

ROLF

No – Thomas! Why does a wizard open a Muggle phone shop?

DEAN

‘Cause he’s a deranged psychopath?

ROLF

Then why weren’t more Muggles attacked? The owls aren’t weapons – they’re Horklumps! Hiding in plain sight.

DEAN

The hell’re you talking about?

ROLF

Look!

INT. UNDERVAULT. DAY

The tunnels finally merge on a ledge over the open cavern. ROLF takes back his wand. He stands against the storm of phones and holds it high.

ROLF

Avifors!

Sparks fly. A phone transforms into an owl. 

ROLF

Reparifarge!

And another, and another.

DEAN

Bloody hell, they are owls. He’s... smuggling owls?

ROLF repeats the spells and DEAN joins in. Soon the vault is filled with friendly owls instead of violent phones.

DEAN spots MORIS slinking along the floor.

DEAN

There!

He jumps down the ledge and gives chase.

DEAN

_Stupefy!_

JIMMY jumps in font of MORRIS to take the blast.

MORRIS

Fumos.

Pipe valves loosen, the cavern fills with steam. 

DEAN waves his wand to dispel the smoke. By the time it clears, MORRIS is gone. DEAN looks up. 

ROLF kneels on the ledge, healing an injured bird. A beautiful barn owl (ULOO) perches on his shoulder. ROLF looks to DEAN and smiles. 

  


EXT. TOTTENHAM COURT ROAD – BOLTS’N’BYTES. DAY (SUNSET)

London traffic. The ‘HEATING & PLUBING’ van is parked outside.

  


INT. BOLTS’N’BYTES. DAY (SUNSET)

BOB hauls another cage of owls up from the basement. ROLF receives medical attention in the corner. 

JIMMY sits on a wooden stool. PLUTO looms over him.

JIMMY

I swear I’ve no idea why I did any of it! Mr Morris – he just barged in one day. He don’ even work here!

PLUTO

(Sways his wand)

That’s right, Mr Jimmy. He was no good at all. Best to forget him. Watch the birdie...

  


EXT. TOTTENHAM COURT ROAD – BOLTS’N’BYTES. DAY (SUNSET)

DEAN and HEATHER sit on a pavement barrier. DEAN’s head is bandaged. HEATHER is back in her plumber’s uniform. 

HEATHER

So, I heard you checked into the Leaky Cauldron last night.

DEAN

Yeah, I –

HEATHER

I hope it wasn’t on account of anything I said.

DEAN

No. Something else made me realize.

HEATHER

Everything ok?

DEAN

Yeah...

(Beat)

(Your parents? They were mixed blood, right?

HEATHER

Mhmm.

DEAN

How’d they handle it?

HEATHER

They had to modify my mum’s memory. She didn’t play along when she learned dad was a wizard, didn’t want to let me go. Phoned the police, saying witches were kidnapping her daughter, taking me to a magic castle in Scotland. 

DEAN

Christ.

HEATHER

Yeah. They split up over it. She still thinks I went to school in Aberdeen. I’ve... never shared my life with her. Not since I was ten.

DEAN

So you became an Obliviator?

HEATHER

Wiping people’s memories for money. Yeah, I figure it’s Oedipal.

DEAN

(Laughs)

That’s tough.

HEATHER

What about you? Being Muggle-born’s no picnic.

DEAN

(Pause)

I don’t know who my real dad is.

HEATHER

What? What about the football nut? West Hammer extraordinaire? 

DEAN

Stepdad. Raised me, loved me, full Monty. Can’t remember a thing about the real one. My mum says he... disappeared.

HEATHER

Then he could have been a wizard? Like mine?

DEAN

Reckon he could have. Would’ve done me a lot of good during the war, if I could prove I wasn’t Muggle-born.

(Stands up)

Not that it matters. Half-bloods, heathens. Whatever we were, we’re Ministry dogs now. 

HEATHER

Worse animals to be.

ROLF is outside the shop, looking lost, carrying ULOO’s cage. DEAN heads to his partner.

DEAN

Yeah. We could all be Horklumps, for starters.

  


EXT. CHARING CROSS ROAD. NIGHT

DEAN and ROLF stroll towards the Leaky Cauldron, eating kebabs. ROLF carries ULOO’s cage.

DEAN

Look, I’m trying to say... thanks. You did brilliant down there. And you were right about the bird. Ok? No need to rub it in.

ROLF

But think of all the opportunities to put my expertise to use! You know Chizpurfles are actually _attracted > to electric artefacts? It could always be Chizpurfles._

DEAN

It’s never Chizpurfles.

ROLF

I’m just saying it’s a possibility. You never know when you’ll stumble on a magical beast. Like Mr Bishop. Goes to buy a phone, gets our Uloo instead.

DEAN

You realize I spend most of my time running after refrigerators with legs? The chances of us getting another case with animals...

ROLF

Mmm. But it already happened once.

DEAN

It’s not happening again.

ROLF

But it could!

DEAN

Highly unlikely...

CUT TO:

  


The OPENING CREDITS

Upbeat, kinetic. 

A) Moody London vistas.

B) Shadows of magical beasts. 

C) Ministry personnel files. 

D) Photos of DEAN playing with finger paints as a toddler. 

E) Moving photos of YOUNG ROLF with his parents in India, dressed like a mini Maharaja. 

F) Pencil sketches of beasts and cursed artefacts come alive around the titles – THOMAS AND SCAMANDER.

  


FADE IN:

EXT. BOIKO’S BOARDING HOUSE. DAY

BOIKO’S front door. DEAN knocks vigorously. BOIKO opens a crack.

BOIKO

Yes?

DEAN holds up his badge: ‘DEPARTMENT OF MAGICAL LAW ENFORCEMENT’.

DEAN

You Boiko?

BOIKO

I am.

DEAN

You got a permit for these garden gnomes?

BOIKO

Sorry?

DEAN

I said, do you have a permit for your garden gnomes?

BOIKO

I don’t think...

DEAN

I’m gonna need you to open the door for me, sir.

BOIKO complies. ROLF squeezes around him with his suitcase.

ROLF

Sorry, if I could just...

BOIKO

What’s he doing here? I thought I told you –

DEAN

Eyes on me, sir. I’ve a Muggle in Molesey, got mauled to death by a garden gnome fits yours in description.

BOIKO

Merlin’s beard...

DEAN

Can you give me a purchase history for all of your gnomes?

DEAN

Oh, heavens. Well, the little fella’s from Bristol. The green ones’re all St Ives. I inherited most of ‘em from my sister...

DEAN

Yup...  
Sure...  
Mhmm... 

DEAN mimes taking notes. He is in fact drawing a picture of a garden gnome.

ROLF squeezes back past BOIKO, holding a heavier suitcase, his gardening gloves, a stack of books.

ROLF

Got it.

DEAN

All right, Boiko. I need you to do a nightly headcount of every garden gnome on the premises for me. That includes lawn flamingos, cherubs, anything with a face. 

DEAN follows ROLF out the garden.

DEAN

Send your count to M.O.M. Level Two, care of Horton Perkins. We clear?

BOIKO

You – you don’t think... one of my gnomes is... a murderer?

DEAN

Have a good day, Mr Boiko.

BOIKO looks down at the smiling statues.

BLACK OUT.

END OF EPISODE

**Author's Note:**

> If I write an Episode Two, I promise it'll have Seamus Finnegan.
> 
> The reason it's so long without Act breaks is because I'm riffing on Sherlock.
> 
>  
> 
> My Script/Screenplay Work Skin is a modified version of one I found here: http://ao3-skins.dreamwidth.org/4297.html
> 
> Although I'm not in love with needing to use paragraph tags as it ruins the line breaks around the dialogue. Also, formatting it was... time consuming, to say the least. Not sure I'd do it again.


End file.
